


We Should Just Kiss

by Fandom_Trash16



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: BittyisdorkyandJackisinfinitelydorkierohmygod, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, idkwhatimdoinganymore, ngoziruinedmylife, slightBeyonce, teenagegirlbehavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 18:45:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6090553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandom_Trash16/pseuds/Fandom_Trash16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(first fic pls be forgiving...enjoy!)</p><p>“Well, looks like you have a severe case of big fat gay crush. The question here is…what are you going to do about it?” Shitty’s mustache twitched slightly at the horrified look on Jack’s face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Should Just Kiss

Early morning sun filtered through the thin curtains, and dust floated through the room, sparkling in the pearly light. It was a peaceful morning, the kind that made you want to just lie in bed until you fell asleep again and woke up hours later. Bitty groggily raised his head to the light, and then flopped face-down back onto his pillow with an audible groan. _Three_ … _two_ … _one_ …

“Bittle!” Jack, the giant French-Canadian hockey _idiot_ , pounded on his door as if he was trying to break it down. Bitty released another muffled groan, then rolled over slightly and spilled out of bed with a huge thump.

“ _Owww_ …” he hissed.

“Bittle,” Jack called again, but this time with concern. “Are you okay?”

“M’good,” Bitty said sluggishly, and slowly picked himself up and opened the door, rubbing his eyes to reveal Jack in all his glory, looking infinitely more awake than him and fist awkwardly raised in mid-knock.

Bitty watched his blue eyes scan him with an expression that he couldn’t be bothered to analyze at 4:00 in the morning, but he still self-consciously ran a hand through his no doubt disheveled blonde hair. “What?”

“Um.” Jack quickly lowered his fist. “Yeah, uh…just get ready.” He speed-walked down the hall and practically flew down the stairs as Bitty stared bemusedly after him.

~oOo~

Jack quickly escaped, sprinting hastily down the stairs. He tried to shake the thought of Bitty’s (no, _Bittle’s_ ) large, soulful brown eyes, pupils blown wider than normal, normally immaculate hair a mess. Jack was _not_ thinking about how his shirt was hiked up at one side and how his taut muscles rippled as he raised his arm to smooth down his hair… _merde_.

He was so fucked.

~oOo~

“Square up, Bittle!”

If Bitty had to count the number of times he’d heard that same statement, he’d need more fingers--but when Jack skated towards him, he still ended up shrinking into himself, brain shutting down and hockey stick clutched in a death grip. He didn’t remember when his eyes had closed, but when he felt a large hand on his shoulder they slowly blinked open.

Jack’s worried (ridiculously handsome) face was a few inches away from his, brow scrunched up and eyes questioning.  
“Maybe we should stop for today.”

Bitty nodded mutely, his eyes wide and feeling a blush rising into his cheeks. Jack still hadn’t moved his hand, and his face was really close. Bitty suddenly wished he wasn’t wearing a helmet.

Jack leaned forward slightly and Bitty’s breath embarrassingly and audibly caught. Jack quickly drew back, clearing his throat, then skillfully turned and skated off.

“Let’s go.”

~oOo~

For the rest of the day, Jack went out of his way to avoid Bitty. Bitty wasn’t sure when Jack’s minute expressions became so familiar to him, but he saw that Jack was afraid of something and he didn’t know what.

“Hey, Jack?” Bitty called him as he skulked through the kitchen, and froze like a deer caught in headlights. “Will you help me with these mini pies?”

Jack looked like he was going to refuse, but when he finally worked up the strength to make eye contact with Bitty, his face softened and he said, “Sure, Bittle.”

Jack spent the next twenty minutes making mini pie lattices in complete silence, while he listened to Beyoncé pour out of Bitty’s phone speaker, until Eric had enough. He slapped his bowl of strawberries on the counter, spinning around, small and fiery, and Jack’s throat went dry.

“All right, what is _up_ with you?” Jack scratched the back of his neck nervously, and then quickly stopped when he realized there was flour all over his hands.

“Uh…what?”

Bitty rolled his eyes at Jack, throwing up his hands. “This! The avoiding, the awkward tension, the fearful glances…what did I do wrong?”

Jack cast his eyes down with a small smile tinged with something like sadness, and Bitty tried to ignore the sudden butterflies. “It’s not you.”

Bitty snorted. “‘It’s not you, it’s me?’ Yeah, thanks Mr. Zimmermann, but I doubt this is because you’re breaking up with me,” he chirped playfully, though his heart stung a little at the words.

Jack’s head snapped up, and the deer-in-headlights expression was back. “I…have to go…”

The giant hockey player quickly scurried out of the kitchen muttering about a research paper due tomorrow, leaving Bitty, once again, bewildered and alone.

~oOo~

“Shitty...Shitty, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Shitty steepled his fingers contemplatively and would have looked he was about to impart words of wisdom if he wasn’t spread across Jack’s bed clad only in sunglasses, the rest of him as naked as the day he was born.

“Well, looks like you have a severe case of big fat gay crush. The question here is…what are you going to do about it?” Shitty’s mustache twitched slightly at the horrified look on Jack’s face.

“You think that I…no, no, no…” Jack covered his face with his hands and leaned back heavily in the chair he was sitting on, groaning. Shitty dramatically whipped off the sunglasses, and gave a piercing glare that Jack could _feel_.

“Jack, don’t even try denying it. Literally everyone has noticed how you act around him…the frogs just write it off as you guys being best friends, but this is _me_.”

Jack’s heartbeat was racing and he was suddenly sweating. What if everyone else really _had_ noticed too? What if someone let it slip? What if the team lost respect for him because he was…no, but nobody treated Bitty any different…but what if—

“Whoa, dude.” There were two warm hands on his shoulders, and Jack’s brain settled down from its rant of worst-case scenarios. He peeked out from between his fingers.

“What you thinking so loud about?”

Jack swallowed. “I’m…scared.”

Shitty sighed fondly and flopped back onto the bed.

“ _Brah_. I got your back.”

Jack uncovered his face and opted to twist his fingers together anxiously. “I just…haven’t felt like this about anyone in a long time, and he’s just so…I don’t want to lose him, you know?” He looked up to see Shitty blinking owlishly at him.

“What?” he asked self-consciously.

“That might be the most emotion you’ve ever expressed in one sentence…damn, Bits is good for you.”

Jack punched him in the arm.

~oOo~

Bitty was listening to Halo on repeat in his room, lying in bed and staring blankly at the wall with his hands crossed over his chest. He thought back to what Ransom and Holster had dubbed “The Great Shower Incident” (a.k.a “Operation Let’s Quietly Eat This Pie”) and how Jack’s hair was imperfectly and yet perfectly tousled, his shirt riding up a little bit and his blue eyes hooded from sleep but flashing in that way that made his heart flip…

Bitty rolled over, and clutched Señor Bunny to his chest, closing his eyes. Daydreaming about his very straight captain was not going to do him any good, and with how Jack had been acting around him lately, Bitty was worried that he _knew_. Being gay was sort of an open secret—everybody knew and nobody really thought it mattered; but, he’d never even talked to Jack about it _once_ , and he was terrified Jack had finally caught on to the longing stares and the excuses to spend time together in the kitchen and the blushing.

He was totally head over heels for the most unattainable French-Canadian hockey robot on earth, and he felt like screaming into his pillow like a teenaged girl.

~oOo~

It took Jack three days to work up the courage to approach Bitty. He had been avoiding checking practice with him because he couldn’t even look at Bitty’s face without his stomach feeling like it was doing the fucking conga and his mind going totally blank. Shitty had coached him through what to say without panicking and escaping again, but when he accidentally said “Eric?” rather than “Bittle?” and Bitty’s wide, surprised eyes met his, he forgot what he was doing.

“Um…uh…” The carefully rehearsed words had escaped him, and he just stared at Bitty in his adorable flannel, all blonde-haired, brown-eyed, wearing a frilly apron and holding a pie that smelled _heavenly_.

“Ihavetotalktoyou.” Bitty’s eyebrow arched at Jack's obvious discomfort, and he placed the pie on the counter and peeled off the oven mitts while maintaining eye contact.

“Slower, sweetheart.” Jack’s heart clenched at the endearment, and that strengthened his resolve.

“I have to talk to you. Alone. Please.” He stiffly got the words out, a testament to his ridiculous nervousness, then did an about-face and walked out of the kitchen without even looking back to see if Bitty would follow.

Bitty joined him on the porch, and craned his neck up to look at him. “You finally gonna tell me what’s wrong?”  
Bitty’s accent only got this thick when he was nervous, drunk, or both…but why would he be nervous? Jack shook his head. It was wishful thinking.

“I…it’s you.”

Bitty’s eyebrow arched again except now he looked hurt. “I’m…the problem?”

“No, no!” Jack sighed, and raked a hand through his hair. “It’s not like that…I just…for the sake of the team we need to talk about this…otherwise I’ll probably drive myself crazy and then we’ll never get any conflict resolution and so we need to have this conversation and I’m kind of in love with you,” he rambled out in a breath.

Bitty’s eyes were shining, but his face was suspicious. “Jack Laurent Zimmermann, if you’re pranking me…”

Jack sighed. “I wish, eh? God, this is embarrassing…”

Bitty looked confused. “Wait, why?”

“As if someone like you could ever…want anyone like me.” Jack determinedly stared down at the porch, observing the tiny trail of ants that was steadily making its way towards his foot, one of them carrying something that looked like a piece of corn chip—

“Jack.” Bitty’s voice was gentle, musical, and against his better judgement, Jack looked up. Bitty’s eyes were still shining, and his mouth was twitching up into a smile. When did he get so close? Jack wondered, but then his thoughts were all turned to mush when Bitty stretched up and pressed their lips together.

He tasted like the pies he baked and sunshine and Sundays at the Haus and as soon as Jack got a taste he wanted more. He half-expected this to be some cruel trick that the universe was playing on him and for Bitty to pull away but the he did this thing with his tongue and Jack’s brain decided to go on vacation. His hands were firmly gripping Bitty’s hips and Bitty’s hands were roughly tugging on his hair and Jack just couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

Finally, Bitty pulled back slightly, both of them panting heavily, and he slid his hands down to Jack’s chest. “Well...I’m kinda in love with you too, Jack Zimmermann.”

Jack let out one of his rare smiles and left Bitty looking a bit dazzled, which he took advantage of by pulling him closer again.

Suddenly, there was a loud shriek.

“LARDOOOOOOO!”

Jack pulled away and groaned. “Shitty’s going to tell everyone in the Haus, oh God…”

Bitty giggled, and Jack honest-to-God melted into the next kiss as they met halfway. It was all going to be fine.


End file.
